


Dean Smith Wrecks New Sub Steve Milton

by A_Diamond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Autofellatio, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Cages, Dom Dean, Face-Fucking, Flirting, Flogging, Getting Together, M/M, Porn Star Castiel, Porn Star Dean Winchester, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Showers, Sub Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 21:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: Master Dean Smith has had his eye on bendy hunk Steve Milton for years, so when he finally manages to lure him into his dungeon, he’s not going to miss any opportunities. The cage is perfect for testing out his new sub’s mouth, but he won’t be satisfied just slamming his hard dick down that throat. Dean edges and tortures Steve on his cross, then flogs his sweet ass until it’s bright red. Finally, he bends his new boy in half and makes him suck himself off as Dean fucks him, pounding mercilessly until they both blow their loads all over Steve’s exhausted body.Don’t miss the super hot behind the scenes extras!





	

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to muse and Jojo for being the very best mods, and to Lauren for the beta and encouragement!

Dean Smith (aka Dean Winchester) and Steve Milton (Castiel Novak) were both hot commodities, but they hadn’t done a shoot together since the start of Dean’s career, a few years into Cas’s. Their paths just diverged, as Dean found his niche and Cas continued in the one found for him. Given the ever-shifting mass of talent in the gay porn industry, it wasn’t unusual to work a project with someone and never see them in person again.

Technically they’d done two back then, but Chi Chi Chi: Pledges Hazed Hard had involved so many people, and contact between the two of them had been so brief, that Cas hadn’t even remembered Dean’s involvement until looking up his filmography.

He did recall the movie the two of them had done with Cain, whose real name Cas didn’t actually know. Twinks Cum-pete for Daddy’s Affection was Dean’s big break; he’d worked with the legendary Cain for years after that. They did more Daddy stuff for a long time, but when Dean started to grow out of his twink phase they transitioned into mentorship scenarios: Cain teaching Dean how to top, how to dom. The two of them double-teaming a sweet thing from the new generation of barely legal boys had broken sales records.

That wasn’t really Cas’s cup of tea for personal entertainment; he got enough of group sex with his own work, having somehow fallen into being typecast for orgies and gangbangs for the better part of a decade. No, what he pulled up lately when he needed to get in the mood for a scene were Dean’s more recent videos. When Dean had outgrown his babyface, he’d done so with style: somewhere along the line he’d turned rugged and muscular, and he took to the other side of kink shoots like a shark to water.

He had a natural flair for sexual torture. For all that their line of work consisted mostly of scripted showmanship, some things were hard to fake. Like the way Dean looked at home with a flogger in his hand or a man’s head yanked back by the hair. Just watching his style of understated control did things to Cas’s dick that neither his own complicated, in-person group experiences nor videos with over-the-top acting by tops who weren’t really sadists could emulate.

So when his manager told him (grudgingly; Crowley had been arguing against Cas’s desire to branch out when he had “a good thing going”) that Dean’s agent had reached out about featuring “Steve” as a sub in one of Dean’s videos, he jumped at the chance.

“It pays more than your usual.” Crowley’s sigh crackled with static, but he knew when to give up. “Which means _I_ get paid more than _my_ usual, which I’ll need when this backfires and all your fickle fans leave you and I’ll need to start focusing my efforts on, God only knows, Gad or someone to be my new cash cow.”

“Your concern for my career is touching. I think I’ll survive doing a single BDSM shoot that I might even enjoy for a change.”

After a long silence, Crowley’s voice was softer than usual. “Cas—”

“I’m not miserable,” he said firmly, stopping that line of concern in its tracks. “If I wanted or needed to quit, don’t flatter yourself that loyalty to you would stop me. I barely even like you.”

Crowley laughed. “I hate you too, cupcake. All right. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll tell Billie we’re in. And if this will finally get you over your ridiculous crush, all the better.”

“I do not have—” Cas started to protest, but Crowley had already hung up.

Even though he gave his phone a scowl and muttered, “Asshole,” before locking the screen, it was good to know that Crowley had his back. They’d been together since Cas’s debuting twink days, and they bickered enough that sometimes it was easy to forget they were working towards the same goal.

A minute later, he got a series of texts:

**Studio wants a standard dungeon setup, no bullshit plot.**

**Billie says Dean’s up for anything but “is a fan” of your flexibility and really wants to make you suck yourself. Just a request, you can say no.**

**Not that you will.**

**Once you’re done jacking off to that idea, let me know what you’re thinking about limits.**

**I will veto anything I think is stupid or bad for you.**

He didn’t want to validate Crowley’s accusation, but he also couldn’t help the flush of arousal that spread through him at that information. Even if it was just in preparation for their proposed shoot together, Dean had watched him. Knew enough about what he could do to have a request, to be a fan—

Okay, he may have had a bit of a crush.

That might or might not have been enough to get his libido interested in the proceedings, but that proved to be functionally irrelevant; once he started considering all the things he’d be okay with Dean doing to him in a fully stocked dungeon set, masturbation was not optional unless he wanted his balls to fall off. Since that would interfere with his job prospects, particularly the job that hopefully involved Dean fucking him—that definitely went on the list—getting himself off was really the only responsible thing to do.

And if he spent quite a lot of time perusing Dean’s body of work, long enough that a round of stroking his dick turned into a second round of fingering himself open and a third fucking himself with a dildo—well, it was important to be thorough in his research.

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite how much he’d been anticipating this day during the eight weeks it had taken to finalize arrangements and book a time, Cas wasn’t nervous when he got to the building where he and Dean would be filming. His mildly embarrassing crush aside, he was a professional and it was a job like any other. He’d even had Dean’s dick in his mouth before and Dean’s mouth on his dick at the same time, but that had been ten years ago and the rest of Twinks Cum-pete had them doing things with Cain, not each other.

Dean greeted him at the door with a travel mug and an easy grin. “Hey, Castiel, welcome. I’m Dean. I mean, you know that, but—Right. Anyway.” He held out the mug. “Your guy said green tea?”

The kindness, on top of everything else about Dean, was almost enough to fluster him, but Cas stayed relaxed as he accepted the warm drink. The last time he’d seen Dean in person, it honestly hadn’t done much for him. He’d been cute, even pretty, but Cas had always preferred to fuck and be fucked by guys with a bit more power behind them.

Dean had that now, and he carried it damn well.

“Hello, Dean. Please, call me Cas. And yes to the tea, thank you. The lack of coffee is what I hate most about filming, especially at the start of the day.”

Laughing, Dean turned to lead the way inside. Cas took a moment to appreciate the sight of his denim-hugged ass and regret that Dean stuck to strictly topping in videos these days. He would’ve loved to get his hands, mouth, or even dick all over it.

“Not a morning person?”

Cas hummed an agreement around a sip of tea. It was good; better than the cheap bulk stuff Crowley usually provided for him, a deep, earthy flavor that had him taking another drink instead of answering properly.

Apparently Dean took that a a sign of exhaustion, because he called over his shoulder, “We don’t have fluffers like you might be used to from your usual shoots, but I’m sure we can come up with some way to wake you up.”

The way he stressed the last three words left no doubt as to which body part he wanted woken up. Cas appreciated his shameless openness. In that spirit, he admitted, “That really won’t be a problem.”

They’d reached a door marked “UNdressing room.” Dean twisted the knob, but then turned so his back was to the door as he pushed through. It meant he could smile at Cas again, and also catch Cas’s eyes darting up from lingering on his ass.

Dean winked. “That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure you’d actually agree to this. You haven’t really done this kind of shoot before, nothing this hard. I thought it might not be your kind of thing.”

“Professionally, it hasn’t been. Personally... Very much my thing. In theory, at least.”

Flattening himself against the door to make room—but not a lot of room—for Cas to enter past him, Dean asked, “You’ve never...?”

“Mm, no.” He paused in the doorway and looked at Dean. The man was barely taller than him, just enough that Cas could peek up at him through his lashes in a move that always played well on camera. “I’m trusting my first time to your very capable hands.”

Dean’s arm struck out, one of his aforementioned hands gripping the door frame to stop Cas from going any further. The other came up to the back of Cas’s neck. Slowly, at first, testing his welcome. Then, when Cas didn’t object, fingers twisted into his hair and tugged his head back so he was looking Dean in the face. His breath caught in his chest at the hint of pain and the hunger darkening Dean’s eyes from green to black.

“I’m going to wreck you.”

Without conscious thought, Cas swayed in Dean’s grasp. Toward him, not away, though the resultant pull on his scalp was the same. His lips parted. Dean’s gaze dropped down to them.

“Save it for the film, boys.”

Cas twitched away, startled, as Dean let go and dropped his arms to his sides. The newcomer stood a few feet away down the hall, arms crossed and mouth pulled sideways in a smirk. Cas felt embarrassed at being caught losing his professionalism, especially before the actual job had even started, but at least Dean looked equally affected.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Dean coughed his surprise into a grin. “Gabe. Director, producer, all around pain in my ass,” he explained.

“Guilty as charged. Now go get ready, you owe me roughly eight hours of sexing. But seriously, save that energy. You two are fucking hot together.”

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all his years making pornography, Cas had never before found himself locked in a welded steel cage barely large enough to fit him on his hands and knees. That was where the first scene with Dean put him, naked save for a stiff leather collar. He started alone as a camera circled around to get the view from all angles, but as soon as they finished with the establishing shot, Dean strode in.

He wore a pair of tight black jeans and the same harness Cas had seen on him in countless other videos, dark leather straps that framed his chest beautifully and matched the dark brown of the collar Cas had been fitted with. He stood at the end of the cage for a minute and Cas knew they had to make a pretty picture.

Without preamble, Dean grabbed the chain leading from Cas’s collar to the outside the cage and yanked. As soon as Cas’s head was close enough, he reached through the bars to fist his hand in Cas’s hair and held onto that instead. Dean let go of the chain and unzipped himself one-handed.

The dick he pulled out and shoved in Cas’s face was soft when he ordered, “Suck,” and remarkably cold when Cas wrapped his lips around it. He had to suppress a grin at the thought of Dean icing himself right up until his cue, trying to hold off his arousal for the sake of a good take. Surely that level of dedication had to be rewarded.

Cas gave it to him, wet and messy, licking as far up Dean’s length—considerable, even soft—as he could with the bars between them. Mouthing his way all around and playing it up for the best camera angle, he licked and kissed and drooled until Dean was thick against his lips. Just when he returned to the head to take it into his mouth, Dean’s fingers tightened in his hair and Cas wasn’t in control of the tempo anymore.

Dean fucked into him, pushing so hard and fast down his throat on the very first thrust that Cas nearly choked on it. He gagged a little and Dean withdrew, pulling almost all the way out and loosening his grip ever so slightly. It wasn’t enough to show unless Gabe had decided to zoom in right at that point of contact, but it was enough to reassure Cas that Dean was checking in on him, making sure he was good to continue. They stayed there as Cas caught a breath; editing bought forgiveness for a lot of breaks or even retakes, as necessary.

But he was ready to go on after just a second, so he flicked his tongue over Dean’s slit in an agreed-upon cue and Dean resumed fucking his throat mercilessly. The next time they stopped, a few minutes later, was because Dean needed the break.

“Fuck,” he said with feeling, leaning against the top of the cage and looking down at his dripping dick. “You’re a goddamn menace. How’re your knees doing, you need to get out and stretch a minute?”

“They’re all right.” Cas’s voice scraped roughly up his throat; he saw Dean’s dick twitch at the sound. “I’d rather skip the disaster of crawling in here again. But I wouldn’t say no to some water.”

One of Gabe’s assistants brought over a bottle, which Dean took before she could pass it through the bars to Cas. Locking eyes with Cas, he twisted it open and even that quiet crack of plastic snapping sent a shiver up Cas’s spine. Dean took a long drink of it himself, then held it down to the cage. Not to pass it through; he tilted the mouth of it towards Cas like he was offering his cock again, and Cas swallowed it just as greedily.

Dean didn’t look away as he drained it.

They both jerked back to the rest of the world at the sound of clapping, and looked over to see Gabe out from behind the cameras and grinning at them.

“We ought to charge just as much for the behind the scenes from this shoot as we do for the movie. You guys are unbelievable, and I mean that in the best possible way. Whenever you’re ready, I need about another ten minutes of useable footage with Cas in the box, then we can move on to the next scene.”

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shoot got no less intense as the hours wore on, either on-script or off. Dean’s hands roved over patches of skin they had no business being near every time he strapped Cas onto the St. Andrew’s Cross—first several upside down, as Dean edged him for long minutes at a time, then right side up.

The last time, Cas was secured face-first to the cross, his back turned towards the main camera as Dean took a heavy suede flogger to his ass. It was another new experience for Cas, one he’d been looking forward to with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

He liked watching it, particularly liked watching Dean doing it to people, but knew that wouldn’t necessarily translate to enjoying the experience himself. He’d wanted to at least try, which was why he’d requested the scene.

The hits started slowly, not exactly soft but not sharply painful, either. Dean warmed him up in a solid rhythm, alternating sides and spacing them out over the entire curve of his butt. Lower down hurt more, where his cheeks met the meat of his thighs, but it still wasn’t unmanageable. He fell into an almost meditative state, until Dean stopped his work.

A secondary camera came around to focus on Cas’s face as Dean said, breathy and right in his ear, “I’m gonna go hard now. Gabe wants some reaction shots. You good?”

Cas started to nod, but Dean grabbed his hair again and craned his neck back until Cas could see him out of the corner of his eye.

“Say it,” he ordered in a whisper.

Cas shivered, hips jerking against the cross even though they had nowhere to go and nothing to give his dick the friction it wanted, and obeyed. “I’m good.”

“Fuckin’ right you are.”

He shoved Cas’s head forward into the center of the cross, where it hung right in the camera’s view and was also protected from stray swings of the flogger. Not that Dean was likely to miss any of his marks, but Cas appreciated his consideration.

The thought of Dean’s care flew out of his head at the next stroke, because he hadn’t been joking about going hard. He’d thought he’d been prepared, but he’d been wrong. A breathy gasp punched out of him, more whine than moan, and his whole body shook against its bonds as it tried in vain to escape what his instincts screamed was an attack.

This time around, Dean didn’t let up at the first sign of distress; Cas had a safeword and an unencumbered mouth with which to use it. If anything, he increased the speed and power of his hits the more Cas yelled and struggled. They came unpredictably, all over his ass and then over and over again in the same place until the burn drove him out of his mind.

He lost time after that, regaining it only in brief moments of noticeable change: when the cameraman below him backed away and out of sight; when Dean started working over his back and shoulders, too; when the pain became even more shattering because Dean had set aside the flogger and picked up the cane. Then even that awareness was gone, and Cas was nothing but a body of raw nerves, a canvas for Dean to paint with agony at his whim.

Cas didn’t realize Dean had stopped hitting him until it had clearly been over for a while; Dean knelt in front of him instead of standing behind him with an implement of torture, gently massaging Cas’s left ankle as he freed it from the cuff. The right one was already loose.

“Hey, Cas. Welcome back,” he said softly when Cas made a little noise. Even he wasn’t sure what it meant, but it sounded questioning. “Got a little intense there, you doing okay?”

While Cas considered that, Dean stood to work on his arms. It put their faces at about the same level, at least once Cas lifted his head from where it had been lolling forward, and he could see the sheen of sweat glistening on Dean’s forehead and cheeks. His eyes glowed under the lights and he couldn’t seem to stop grinning despite his concern.

Cas understood; he felt it, too. “I’m doing fucking fantastic.”

Dean stopped trying to contain his grin and they held a look until Gabe called them out of it.

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They each grabbed half a sandwich on the way to the showers; nothing too heavy, just enough to keep their blood sugar and energy up. Gabe took two and followed them with a camera. Cas paused, unsure; even behind the scenes clips didn’t usually follow the cleanup and prep work. More functional than sexy, it tended to take viewers out of the fantasy instead of adding to it.

But Gabe said, “There’s no way I’m missing this,” so Cas shrugged and let it go. It wasn’t like he cared about preserving his privacy.

Gabe turned out to have the right of it, after all.

As soon as Cas stepped under the spray of water and picked up the waiting washcloth, Dean reached around him to take it from his hands. Dean’s body was a solid heat against his back, and the command, “Tell me this is okay,” came rough and wanting against his ear.

He almost nodded before remembering the last time, so he forced himself to say it instead. “Yes,” was a rasp in his throat; “Please,” was even rougher.

Pressed tight behind him, Dean held out the cloth and asked, “Soap?”

Cas had to stretch to reach the bottle of unscented body wash without pulling away from Dean, but he wasn’t about to give up that contact. One hand on his hip to keep him still, Dean ran the lathered cloth all over his chest. Between his pecs, across his nipples, down his stomach to—

“Fuck!”

“Soon,” Dean promised with a smooth chuckle as he jacked Cas with the washcloth twice, three times, and moved on. “So, Cas, tell me about yourself.”

“Uh.” Dean’s hand slipped between them to Cas’s backside and the cloth bit at raw skin when he tenderly rubbed over the welts. Cas’s whole career was predicated on keeping his head through all kinds of sexual stimulation, but Dean proved extremely distracting. He needed to level the playing field, and for once wasn’t sure he could rely on his sexuality to do it. Wasn’t sure he wanted to, either.

“I’m an amateur apiarist.”

The hook took a moment, because Dean’s first response, purred against him, was, “Oh, honey. I don’t think anything about you is amateur.” Cas grinned at the unknowing pun as Dean asked, “But, uh, what exactly—”

“Beekeeper. I have a couple hives at home.”

Dean actually stopped, still holding the cloth on Cas’s thigh. “No shit, really? That’s awesome!”

Laughing, delighted to have thrown Dean off his game, Cas snatched the washcloth and poured another dollop of soap on it, then dropped to his knees. The tile was warm, heated by the water and their bodies, and Dean was unresisting as Cas guided one of his feet onto his crouched thigh. He stroked up the back of Dean’s calf, leaving a trail of suds along his path, and asked, “What about you?”

Dean’s erection bobbed between them. “My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky bottoms.”

Cas grinned and Dean grinned back. He found himself wanting this—not professionally, or at least not just professionally, not just to replace his usual orgies. The easy back-and-forth, the quick turnaround between seduction and teasing and laughter, felt more intimate than that. It felt like something he could come home to, and that was as thrilling as it was dangerous.

He didn’t know how to start trying to chase that dream in the middle of a porn shoot, though.

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After more prep, it was time for the climactic scene.

“Let me know if this starts tweaking anything,” Dean reminded him again. “I’d hate to do any lasting damage. I like temporary damage, so I can do it again later.”

He reached over to squeeze one of Cas’s asscheeks, which was bright red and incredibly sensitive. Cas hissed at the pain and tried to wiggle away, but Dean had one of his ankles already fastened to one corner of the specially designed bench and the other gripped tightly so he could strap it in, too. It meant Cas was helplessly bent in half, his legs curling over his body so far that his face was nearly to his crotch—which was, after all, the point.

Dean was going to fuck him while he sucked himself off.

Cas’s flexibility was partly a natural gift and partly earned through a daily yoga routine, and wholly one of the main reasons for his success. But this particular talent had only featured in one shoot before, a solo auto-fellatio video, because in truth it wasn’t especially good for his back. If ever there were a time he was willing to take that risk, it was here. Dean “making” him do it, filling him with that beautiful cock while Cas also filled himself.

When he was settled in, and had reassured Dean yet another time that he wouldn’t hesitate to pause or stop the scene entirely if things started to feel wrong, Dean took it upon himself to change the script.

“How would you feel about me fingering you and jerking you off for a bit first? Just to make sure you’re good and ready, you know.” Then, before Cas could respond, “And because I want to.”

Cas had barely gotten his agreement out before Dean was three fingers deep in him with a hand around his dick. He vaguely heard Gabe shouting, “What the hell!” but couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about it when Dean was nailing his prostate and twisting around the head of his dick from the get-go. In fact, the noise he made at the sudden, overwhelming simulation sounded remarkably like what had come out of him during the flogging, and drowned out any further objections by their director.

It wasn’t long before he warned, “I’m gonna—” and Dean answered, “No, you’re not,” and squeezed his balls viciously. As Cas was still recovering from that throb of pain, Dean pulled his fingers out and shoved his dick in. The slap of his hips against Cas’s abused ass added another layer of ache, so that it took him a glorious minute to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

He stretched his neck, bent his head up, and took the first inch or so of his own dick into his mouth before Dean had to remind him, which he counted as a victory. He suckled at the head and licked over it, pressing his tongue against the slit and tasting his own precome.

It all felt so good together that he almost forgot to warn Dean and Gabe when he was close again, which would have been even more unforgivably unprofessional than all the things he already felt a little guilty about, but he pulled back at the last minute and gasped it out. Despite having to wait for the camera to get in position, and Dean having to pull out and step away so he didn’t block the view, he was back to that spot as soon as his lips were in place again.

As the first spurt of come hit his tongue he pulled away and closed his eyes so the rest could splatter over his face. Framed between his spread legs, it would make a good money shot for the video.

No sooner had he finished twitching than the cameraman hurried away and Dean slammed back into him, fucking him hard and fast and rapidly into the territory of overstimulation. They both turned noisy, Dean grunting and praising and growling, “Take it,” as he forced half-pained whines out of Cas with every thrust.

His only regret was that Dean had to pull out again for his own comeshot, but at least twisted up as he was he could see Dean painting it over his bright ass.

8==D~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So,” Gabe asked from off-camera after they’d cleaned up and settled onto a new bench side by side for the interview, “this was pretty much new for you from start to finish, Steve. How’d you like it?”

Cas’s exhausted, sated smile wasn’t the least bit forced, even though the hard wooden bench seat meant constant discomfort. “A lot. It was more intense than anything I’ve done before, but I—I loved it, really.”

“So, any chance we’ll see you in Master Smith’s dungeon again?”

Glancing sideways at Dean, Cas hedged, “I think that’s up to him, isn’t it?”

Dean grinned back. “If you’re up for it, I’d love to have you back.”

“I’d like that. Maybe once my ass isn’t quite so purple.”

Their eyes locked and held for a second, then they both burst out laughing. Cas couldn’t help it, between the endorphins and the overall experience of the day. He just felt great.

Gabe let them go on, shaking his head, but eventually cleared his throat and said, “All right, anything else?”

Buoyed by his mood and deciding that professionalism could go fuck itself once and for all, Cas turned to Dean. “While we’re waiting on that, do you, uh, wanna get coffee sometime? Or dinner. I think we can safely skip to the third date, all things considered.”

Before he really knew what was happening, Dean was off his own side of the bench and straddled across Cas’s lap. The extra weight meant even more pressure on his aching ass, but as his already re-rousing dick demonstrated, that really wasn’t a downside.

Arms slung over Cas’s shoulders, Dean searched his face. Voice low and dark, he warned, “If I take you home, you better be intending to stay. I mean long-term, if we work out like I know we will. I’m not just gonna fuck you.”

“No, Dean.” It was agreement, not denial. Surrender and hope all at once. “You’re going to wreck me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I exist on tumblr!](http://alxdiamond.tumblr.com/) Come say hi if you'd like.


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